It's going to be okay.

Dear readers, 

I found this blog just browsing the Internet. It is called 'Single Dad Laughing.' He shared a personal, private moment for his readers and I thought I would share it on this blog. It made me really think of the importance of treating others with respect, dignity, and kindness. It really makes me think of not being judgmental of others and accepting others as I hope they accept me.  His post just really touched my heart in this moment of torment I could only imagine he experienced. It also made me think that even during those hard times, if you just hold on - you will learn it will be okay. It really will. Here is part of his story.  

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I decided that this week I am going to publish each of the heavy posts I told you about in The Darkness Before the Light. I’m just ready to share some of the unexpected and more beautiful parts of this journey and to go back to blogging as usual. I hope that’s okay. It might be a rough few days around here first, though. (Insert uncomfortable laugh.)

Anyway, last week I came out of the closet.

God, that sounds so strange being that it was only recently that I was able to admit even to myself that I was anything other than straight.

Coming to acknowledge that I am often as attracted to men as I am to women has been very challenging. Today I will attempt to share my journey of the last five months with you.

In June, I wrote a response on my blog to another blogger’s coming-out post. I didn’t just say I wasn’t gay in that response. I went into great detail telling you all about a fairly recent time of my life when I really questioned my sexuality. I also told you that at the end of the journey, I determined that I am indeed straight.

As I typed that post, I began feeling like the world’s biggest perjurer, even though I didn’t really tell a single lie while writing it. I was and still am attracted to women. I love boobs more than you can imagine (okay, maybe don’t imagine that). I have no doubts about my attraction or my capability to be attracted to the opposite sex.

Yet, as I wrote that response and then published it, something began perching very heavily and uneasily upon me. Telling the world that I wasn’t gay this time hadn’t done what I needed it to do in order to let me distance myself from the nagging attraction I’ve experienced toward men since I was eleven years old.

Instead, it pushed me hard and fast into the single greatest hopelessness of my life.

You see, after writing that post, I suddenly knew the truth. And I couldn’t deny it.

And I did not, under any circumstances, want to admit the truth.

So I didn’t. And you wouldn’t believe how badly and how quickly my life spiraled out of control after that.

In vain attempts to bury my ever-escalating feelings and emotions, I spent the next several weeks chasing anything that I thought would prove how straight I was. That chase involved a lot of booze and hurting a lot of women.

Yet every step I took to cover it up, “it” pushed harder and louder against the outer walls of both my heart and mind until I finally snapped.

And as I drove up the mountain to my home, drowning beneath perhaps the greatest depression of my life, two thoughts struck me. You can’t let this happen, and you don’t have to deal with this.

Leading to the home that we lived in at the time, there were several very tall ravines, some of them hundreds of feet high. All I had to do was unbuckle my seatbelt, drastically turn my steering wheel, roll my car over the edge of one of them, and…

I would be free.

Free from the icy cold whisper that wouldn’t let me continue as I had to that point.

Without thinking another thought about what I was doing, I unbuckled my seatbelt.

Free from my family, and their cruel judgments and condemnation that surely would follow.

I looked ahead for the ideal place to send my car over.

Free from my friends, and their immediate disdain and hatred that they surely would feel.

I shifted both hands to the far left side of the wheel.

Free from this blog, and the aftermath that permitting myself to acknowledge such truths would bring.

I took a deep breath.

Free from other bloggers, and the disgust and ridicule and questioning and attacking that would certainly ensue.

Three…

Free from all the voices of my past who promised to hate me, loathe me, believe I was evil, and hurt me for my truth.

Two…

Free from myself, and the overwhelming lack of personal integrity I had been feeling so much of the last several weeks.

One…

My son…

My son…

I wish I could tell you that in that moment, I thought about what my son needed. I wish I could tell you that I thought about how much he needed his dad. I wish I could tell you that I thought about the kind of devastation my demise would bring him.

But I didn’t.

I thought only of his unconditional love for me.

And in less time than a person can think a single thought, everything changed for me.

There was at least one person who I knew would not care about my truth. He would not judge me for it. He would not hate me for it. He would not leave me for it.

There was at least one person who would not change the way he thought of me, change the way he felt about me, or change the way he trusted me.

There was one person for whom it was worth not driving over that edge.

After riding in silence for a moment, I reached around, pulled the seatbelt back across my chest, and buckled myself back in.

Just make it home, I thought as I cranked up my stereo loud enough that I wouldn’t have to think about… anything.

When I got home, I traipsed upstairs, through my bedroom, and into my bathroom. I grabbed both sides of the vanity and searched my own face for the better part of half an hour. I felt no emotion. No sadness. No anxiety. No anything.

Admit it, I finally whispered to the pale man looking back at me. I knew that at this point I had only two options. I had finally been pushed to that ledge.

I had to admit it.

Or die to avoid it.

I stiffened and clasped the edges of the sink with shaking force. And, staring into my own unblinking eyes, I whispered aloud the words I had been dreading since I was a child.

You’re not gay.

But you’re also not straight.

I didn’t know what that meant. But I knew it wasn’t worth dying over.

And suddenly, a warm calm spread over me, and I knew for the first time that who I was might be okay.

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Love,
Megan